


Renegades

by shadows_alley



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic, The Tomorrow People (2013), The Tomorrow People - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Exy (All For The Game), Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Child Abuse, Heavy Angst, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Superpowers, Telekinesis, Telepathy, Teleportation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 14:18:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18448310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadows_alley/pseuds/shadows_alley
Summary: The Tomorrow People AU that literally no one asked for. You don’t need to watch the show to understand this. The fic will explain everything, and also don’t expect this to be too much like the show it differs greatly. Neil does roughly take the place of Stephen in the show, though.***Tags and warnings will update as the story progresses.***---He weaved through the trees with huffing breaths and aching limbs. Mud had started drying on his pants and shoes weighing the articles down more. Blurred vision, loud thoughts, and his mess of a body prevented him from seeing the root that came up from the ground in a lazy arch. As he took the next step his dingy sneaker was caught by the root throwing his body forward. Branches cut his face and tore at his clothes, propelling his mind into memories of knifes and threats. His body rolled and hit the ground with a soft thud.There was a smoky, blue flash and disorientating feeling, and the next thing the boy knew he was back on his feet, running.





	Renegades

**Author's Note:**

> When the text is double lined it means the there’s a flashback, memory, dream, or whatever. 
> 
> *TW for child abuse throughout the whole chapter. Especially in the last blocked section*
> 
> Fair warning this is NOTHING like the tv show. I just used its ideas as a rough outline. 
> 
> Okay so in the later chapters there’s a subway station and I think Columbia has a metro line, but I’m kinda not sure. So if it doesn’t then this is horribly inaccurate and I’m not changing it. 
> 
> Hope you aftg nerds enjoy!

The Smoke mixed with mist and steam from the fresh rain faded away into the distance, miles from the dark, winding forest the boy was currently in. Rain poured down soaking that bone-tired boy who would not stop running. His tattered clothes pressed against his body uncomfortably making his form awkward and jerky. Blood ran down the back of his neck seeping into his shirt collar. His eyelashes were sticking together from rain, sweat, and dried tears obscuring his vision. The duffel swung around his shoulders was becoming too much to carry, and adding onto the growing list of problems the boy had.

He weaved through the trees with huffing breaths and aching limbs. Mud had started drying on his pants and shoes weighing the articles down more. Blurred vision, loud thoughts, and his mess of a body prevented him from seeing the root that came up from the ground in a lazy arch. As he took the next step his dingy sneaker was caught by the root throwing his body forward. Branches cut his face and tore at his clothes, propelling his mind into memories of knifes and threats. His body rolled and hit the ground with a soft thud.

There was a smoky, blue flash and disorientating feeling, and the next thing the boy knew he was back on his feet, running.

He didn’t have time to register what the hell that was he just had to _run_. His mother’s words played over and over in his head. “Don’t look back, don’t slow down, and don’t trust anyone. Be anyone but yourself, and never be anyone for too long... Are you listing, Abram? _Run._ Keep running and never stop.”

Abram had to run; he had no choice. It didn’t matter that he could still taste the smoke and ashes in his throat, suffocating him.

 

* * *

 

It didn’t matter that he could still see his mother’s blood coated hand against her abdomen. His vision was covered by the memory of the car veering off that road due to her sloppy driving… due to her _dying._

The vehicle slid off the road and toward a tree-covered creek. He didn’t see the tree before it was too late.

He lunged for the wheel, but his mother pushed him into the door his head slamming against the glass. _The world faded into a blotchy nothingness._

 Then the slap of his mother’s bloodied hand, the smell of burned gasoline, and smoke hit him like a freight train. She said her words, _her last words_ , reached over him to open the car’s door, and shoved him out. He hit the rocky sand near the creek. The rocks dug into his palms. He could feel the warm blood oozing form his hands, and his _head?_ Abram didn’t realize it till now but his mother _threw_ him a good twenty feet from the car. _How that was even possible; it had to have been delusions the boy thought._ Abram tried to scramble back in a save his mother; _he had to_. He couldn’t even get a foot closer to the car before it burst into flames.

_She couldn’t be gone_. Abram couldn’t believe it. All of her fierce protectiveness bottled into one fiery crash forgotten by the world _. Gone forever_. Then it registered they weren’t forgotten; they were running. His father’s men had caught them. They had finally killed her, and they were coming for him next.

Abram picked himself up, and did as his mother told him. _For once…_

He had been running for a while. Abram had lost count when he reached ten minutes; his brain had switched gears to _just moving_. Just running and, absolutely, no thinking. That’s when the rain started. As rain came down in sheets against his body, Abram filled with dread. Rain meant mud, and mud meant footprints. _He was a goner. They could track him. His mother died for nothing._ Acknowledgement hit him like a fist. He had seen and felt that dizzy flash before: right as Abram thought of getting as far away as quick as possible he was gone the crash’s smoke hazy in the distance.

* * *

                                                               

After hours of running and _flashing? What had his life come to, Abram had no idea._ His worn and bloodied body began to give. Abram had to get out of the rain. He prayed to a god he doesn’t even believe in and flashed to who the hell knows where.

He fell onto hard concrete and the smell of city drifted through his nose. There was something about the mixture of smog, drugs, and gasoline that made Abram feel secure yet on edge. He guessed it was just another hypocrisy ingrained in him by his mother. He sat up and pressed himself against the grungy alley’s wall. He looked around the alley with squinted eyes.

Night had settled over this city like a thick starless blanket the only light sources being the city’s windows and old, dimming street lamps. The alley though, was just you typical trash and stain covered brick and concrete three-sided box. Luckily enough, there was a dumpster in the corner to satiate all of Abram’s paranoid needs. _Hide_ , was the only thing his concussed brain could muster. He inched his way across the garbage covered cement. His head was pounding and his vision was getting blurrier by the second. Once Abram got behind the safety of the dumpster, he tore through his now damp duffel.

Abram needed a new identity; that name was for his mother _only_. He riffled through soggy papers and ruined medical supplies, that he wished he could use. He knew he had to have one new driver’s license. His fingers found the cool plastic, and a breath he didn’t realize he was holding came out in a shallow sigh as he leaned his head against brick. He didn’t need to know the name no it didn’t matter, all that did though was the fact that it wasn’t _him_. Sleep, exhaustion, a concision, maybe all three took his vision away and replaced it with a forgotten dream or _memory._

 

* * *

_Ten years ago_

Stephen blinked himself awake, and gazed out the bus’s window. The city’s buildings were passing in a blur as the bus put more distance between itself and the airport. He lifted his head from his mother’s shoulder and rubbed his eyes. Stephen knew somewhere in his child mind that he shouldn’t be sleeping because _the bad man_ was after him, but the rattle of the engine and his mom’s breathing carried him to sleep anyway. His blue eyes looked around the bus curiously. There was a couple a few seats over that caught his eye. A man with tan skin and broad, muscular shoulders. A delicate thin-framed women with kind eyes. The man’s arm was wrapped loosely around her shoulder. The woman caught him staring, and Stephen’s checks grew flushed as he quickly looked down at his feet. His eyes drifted back up slowly to see the woman smiling at him, and without realizing he smiled back.

 

“Stephen.” his mother hissed as she pulled him away so that he couldn’t see the couple. However, what Stephen didn’t see was the hard set of the man’s face and the woman’s sorrowful pout as they eyed the scene.

 

Pulled flesh to his mother’s side, Stephen stared at the floor till the bus came to a stop. His legs slowly swinging until his mother smacked his thigh. The doors hissed, and passengers plied off. Stephen and his mother mixed with the crowd.

 

 There was a painful grip on Stephen’s wrist as his mother drug him of the bus. She continued tugging hard on his wrist so much so it started to hurt. The boy reached to pry his mother’s grip from his hands, but she held tighter. They broke away from the throng of people. She pulled him into an alley so harshly that he stumbled when she stopped abruptly. His mother’s moved around, frantic.

 

“What did I tell you, _Abram_?” His mother’s hiss was venomous. “You never listen. I could be free from all of this if I didn’t have you,” she huffed as her hands pinched his face, “I should have left you with your father, _you stupid boy_!”

 

Stephen whimpered. He didn’t want to go back to _the bad man_. “Don’t send me back, mum. I swear I’ll listen better, please.” His voice tapered off as his mother’s gaze tore through him. All he had left were pitiful little cries escaping from him.

 

There was a resounding crack. Stephen’s crying ceased immediately as his little hand shot up to his cheek. He could feel the red whelp hot against his skin.

 

“Stop it, boy! I don’t want to her you crying like a fucking baby. I did not raise you to be weak; I raised you to bloody listen.” Her hands griped Stephen’s shoulders so tight he could feel the bruises forming. His mother pulled him closer. “We. Stay. Hidden.” He could feel her spit hit his face.

* * *

 

Abram woke up with a shout.

 

_We can help you, Abram._

 

Echoed through his jolted mind.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic i hope its okay. Any questions or anything message me on my tumblr or twitter @oneawkwardnerd
> 
> The name of this fic as well as chapter titles come from the song of the same name by X Ambassadors  
>  -> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8j741TUIET0


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